Chapter 260: A Branch in France?
In the colonnade beside the Fountain of Beauty, Leonardo stood with one hand tucked casually into the pocket of his robes, quietly sensing the emotional energy the coloured crystal spheres were drawing from the young witches around them.
The girls gathered here gave off emotional auras that were both richer and more concentrated than those of the boys: anticipation, delight, a touch of rivalry, concern over their appearance, even the giddy excitement of sharing a secret with a close friend...
The emotions were more varied, and their intensity noticeably greater.
Sure enough, whether in the wizarding world or the Muggle one, women tended to invest more emotionally and were generally more willing to spend.
Leonardo recalled the sales reports from the Seventh Workshop in Diagon Alley, as well as the figures Fred and George had shared with him. Female customers consistently accounted for the largest share of sales.
If he seized the opportunity to introduce a range of beauty and skincare potions, along with a few carefully designed alchemical trinkets, here at Beauxbatons, he was confident they would gain traction before long.
The thought passed almost as soon as it came.
Leonardo simply didn't have much time left at Beauxbatons. His network here was practically non-existent, and the only person he could truly call an acquaintance was Fleur.
As for asking her to sell them on his behalf, that wasn't especially realistic.
Quite apart from the fact that Beauxbatons' rules and school culture were stricter than Hogwarts', placing tighter restrictions on what students could do on campus.
As for Fleur herself, over the past few days Leonardo had noticed something else as well. Her relationships at Beauxbatons were, in truth, fairly ordinary.
She certainly had plenty of admirers among the boys, but very few who actually dared approach her and speak to her as an equal. Most admired her from a distance instead.
Beauxbatons already had far more girls than boys, and among the girls, the looks Fleur attracted were more complicated still. Their admiration for her beauty and talent was undoubtedly genuine, but so too were the faint traces of jealousy they inspired, along with the sense of distance created by her completely unapologetic pride.
The number of people she could truly call close friends was surprisingly small.
Fleur herself seemed entirely unconcerned by it. She had once told Leonardo that she'd never cared for excessive, meaningless socialising, and even less did she see any reason to change herself simply to fit in with other people.
"Being liked, or being disliked, are both perfectly normal."
Leonardo remembered the way she'd lifted her delicate chin ever so slightly as she said it, her blue eyes calm and matter-of-fact.
There was truth in those words. Given Fleur's circumstances and temperament, she had never been someone who blended effortlessly into a crowd, nor was there any need for her to do so.
Leonardo felt no regret over being unable to open a small branch at Beauxbatons, because a bolder, more straightforward plan had already taken shape in his mind: why not simply open a shop of his own in the heart of the French wizarding world's commercial district?
In some ways, that was even more convenient than opening one in Diagon Alley. Every inch of Diagon Alley was worth its weight in gold, and securing a shop there was no easy task. Most prime locations had been held by the old pure-blood families for generations.
But when it came to influence, resources, and connections within the French wizarding world, who could possibly compare with his teacher, Nicolas Flamel?
When Leonardo had brought up the idea, the six-hundred-year-old alchemist hadn't even batted an eyelid. He had simply waved a hand and remarked that he still had a few old shopfronts sitting vacant in the Parisian wizarding district and along several of its main commercial streets. Then he'd casually tossed Leonardo a ring of keys and told him to use whichever one he liked.
In fact, had Leonardo not refused so firmly, Nicolas had intended to transfer ownership of the properties to him outright.
For a legendary alchemist who could turn stone into gold and had long since outgrown any attachment to worldly possessions, such properties were no more valuable than pebbles by the roadside.
More importantly, in the French wizarding world, the name Nicolas Flamel represented far more than wealth. It carried unmatched prestige and an intricate web of connections built up over six centuries.
That accumulation of influence was enough to reach every corner of the French wizarding world.
Even Leonardo had to admit that getting started in France would probably be far easier than it had been in Britain.